


You Will Learn

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: M/M, No Sexual Gratification, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:03:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9861677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Despite being told time and time again tonotswing from the Chandelier- or anywhere within the Manor itself- Dickdoes, and is forced to learn a lesson when he breaks it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fujoshi_robin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fujoshi_robin/gifts).



> Another commission! And a reminder I don't write nearly enough spanking.

Dick fidgeted, wanting to cram his hands into the pockets of his slacks, or possibly wring his sweater within them. Needed to do  _ something _ with them aside of having them hang loosely at his sides- but he knew Bruce wouldn’t approve. And with the stone-like stare his mentor was currently giving him, he didn’t need  _ another _ reason for Bruce to be unhappy.

 

“We’ve talked about this, Dick,” he said, staring at him from across his desk. His laptop was shut, the papers ignored- the expensive pen he used to sign company documents left uncapped. He’d been working when he’d summoned Dick up. “You  _ know better _ .”

 

“Yes’sir,” Dick mumbled, glancing down. He looked past his shoes- he’d scuffed them in his endeavors- and at the polished wood floor, instead.

 

“I told you time and time again  _ not _ to climb things in the manor. And I  _ specifically _ told you not to  _ touch _ that Chandelier. Do you know how old it is?”

 

“Yes’sir,” he mumbled again, because he  _ did _ . The first time he’d swung from it- and god, how great that had  _ been _ \- Bruce had sat him down and scolded him for a half hour. The lecture had included it’s history within the home, how far back it went, the  _ lengths _ to which Alfred went to clean and care for it. And he was never to touch it.  _ Boy antics _ were not meant for the home, Dick knew- or was supposed to. That was for the Cave.

 

But it was so  _ hard _ when he came home wound up and just wanted to fly again. Hard because they wouldn’t go on patrol for hours, and that one time he’d gotten up there, that thing had  _ swung _ so well, reminded Dick of the trapeze. And he just needed that, needed that freedom. Needed to let his mind  _ go _ because maybe today had been  _ shit _ and he just-

 

“Alfred is going to spend the entire night cleaning it up,” Bruce continued, “and I should have  _ you _ helping him.”

 

Dick sighed. Resigned that he was going to lose a night of patrol over this, and that Bruce would be  _ angry _ for some time to come. And he didn’t blame him, really- but well, he didn’t have to  _ like _ it.

 

He turned to leave, figured they were done, and he’d get a head start on the clean-up, but paused after only a step when he heard a deep rumbled, “ _ Dick _ .” He glanced back, and Bruce had pushed his chair back, but hadn’t stood up. “We’re not done.” Dick stared for a moment, unsure what  _ else _ there could be. “Come here.”

 

He turned, away from the heavy wooden door that was securely closed, made his way to Bruce’s desk, around it. He stood by the corner, before Bruce reached out, wrapped a large hand around his wrist.

 

“I don’t know what else to do,” Bruce said, tugging Dick closer. “I warned you and you didn’t listen. And simply  _ losing _ a few privileges and a night to cleaning isn’t enough. You won’t learn.”

 

Dick swallowed, felt his heart rate picking up. “I will,” he said, even though he wasn’t entirely convinced himself. But Bruce’s eyes were so  _ dark _ and he couldn’t read his face and it was a little terrifying.

 

“No. You won’t.” He sighed, resigned, and tugged Dick  _ hard _ . Dick stumbled, and Bruce turned him, forced him down onto his lap. Dick went rigid for a moment, felt so out of place, before Bruce’s large hand was sliding beneath him, getting his slacks open.

 

“Bruce!” Dick yelped, getting his hands on one of his large thighs and squeezing, trying to push himself up. But his pants were open and Bruce as tugging them over his ass, just past the juncture of his thighs.

 

“I had to learn this way, as a boy. And maybe you’re a bit  _ old _ for it, but it’s the only thing I can think of.” His fingers curled in the waistband of Dick’s briefs now, tugged them down. The air in the room hit Dick’s warm, dark skin, made him gasp, dig his nails into Bruce’s fitted slacks harder, going for the meat of his thighs. “But you  _ need _ to learn.”

 

Dick wasn’t braced for it. He should have been, he  _ knew _ what this was- but he hadn’t been punished like this since he was a very small child. His father tried it once and his mother was firmly  _ against _ it- and no one had laid a hand on him in punishment like this ever again.

 

But when Bruce’s large hand came down  _ hard _ on his exposed ass, Dick’s mind fizzled out completely. He howled, trying to jerk away from it. It  _ stung _ , and the sound echoed off the office walls. Dick’s mouth fell open, but before he could suck in a breath it happened again, another loud  _ slap _ of skin on skin, another sting from tender flesh.

 

“ _ Bruce _ ,” he whined, a one word plea for  _ mercy _ because he didn’t need this, he could learn, he could be good.

 

“No,” Bruce said, and it was  _ stern _ . His hand came down again, and Dick’s breath hiccuped. “You  _ disobeyed _ me, Dick. You have to face the consequences.” Another smack, louder now, and Dick felt the ripple of his flesh moving. “You.” Another smack. “Will.”  _ Another.  _ “Learn.”

 

With the next smack Dick cried out, nearly screaming. The skin of his ass felt like fire, hot to the touch already, the dark skin going  _ cherry red _ . He felt tears prickling in the corner of his eyes as he squirmed, trying to get away from Bruce’s hand, trying to get him to hit a  _ different _ spot. But the next hit came right to the tender, red flesh, and Dick  _ sobbed _ .

 

“ _ No _ ,” he whined, reaching back, desperately trying to protect himself, to cover himself. But the moment his hand touched his burning skin, Bruce’s other hand was wrapping around his delicate wrist. He jerked Dick’s arm up, locked it against the small of his back and held him firm as he spanked him again. Dick cried out, the tears breaking from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

 

“Could lose you,” Bruce finally mumbled, with another slap. “You could get  _ hurt _ .”  _ Another _ , so loud the sound rang through Dick’s ears, made his head almost hurt. He tried to squirm away again, writhing and grinding into Bruce’s thigh, and the friction, it felt good, it helped to take away from the sting.

 

Dick groaned, a little deep yet broken noise, tried to lift up to ease the friction because he couldn’t,  _ he shouldn’t _ \- but he pushed to meet Bruce’s hand, and he let himself be pushed right down into his thigh, let his cock twitch as his ass  _ screamed _ in agony.

 

“Bruce,” he whined again, felt only capable of his damn  _ name _ and one word pleas. His eyes stung as the tears rolled down, left his cheeks wet. A few dripped off his jaw, fell on Bruce’s slacks. “I’m  _ sorry _ .” It came choked out, weak, as Bruce’s hand smacked his ass again. Dick shivered, tried to suck in a breath and it was  _ too fast _ , let it out and  _ did it again _ , and he was getting dizzy, was going to hyperventilate as he sobbed-

 

Instead of another hit coming, Bruce was letting go of his hold on Dick’s wrist, allowing his arm to drop from the awkward position that had begun to make his shoulder ache. He got his large hands on him, pulled him up so that Dick was straddling one large thigh, was slumping into Bruce as his large arms locked around him.

 

Dick sobbed, trembled with it, pressed his face into Bruce’s neck as his hands feebly slid up to his shoulders. He held on, let himself cry, from the ache yes but also because he did feel bad, for upsetting Bruce so much. All he wanted to do was make him  _ proud _ .

 

One hand splayed on Dick’s lower back, on bare skin where his shirt and sweater were rucked up. The cool air brought out the sting in his skin, and Dick couldn’t stop squirming, trying to get away from the hurt.

 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce finally whispered, his thumb tracing little circles into Dick’s lower back. It felt shockingly good, and Dick tried to focus in on that, to pinpoint the bit of good and focus on that as he pushed closer. With his clothing still pooled down at the juncture of his thighs, his bare cock rubbed at Bruce’s expensive button down- and he was half hard. He felt the subtle shift in Bruce’s breathing, like he  _ knew _ , and Dick tried to bury his face further, embarrassed even more. He was so  _ exposed _ and he’d been  _ bad _ and now here he was, getting excited and he didn’t know what to  _ do _ -

 

This was  _ Bruce _ .

 

“You could have been hurt,” Bruce said, and Dick was so  _ glad _ he was ignoring this. “And I couldn’t…” he held tighter. “I don’t want to see you hurt,” he chose, and Dick sort of thought there was  _ more _ \- but Bruce opening up like this was a miracle. Almost made the way his ass hurt worth it.

 

Dick nuzzled his neck, breathed in his cologne, began to relax a little. He fought the urge to buck his hips, to chase after something  _ good _ after all that pain- and then Bruce’s hand on his lower back slid down, gently over the burning hot skin. Dick whined, bit his lip, but the hand was tender, rubbed at the aching flesh very gently. He cupped Dick’s ass, and Dick sighed, trembling.

 

“I shouldn’t have,” Bruce whispered, and he was so quiet, so  _ soft _ \- so unlike himself. Dick bit at his own lip, shivered when Bruce’s fingers trailed up his ass again, let his knee slide on the chair until his own thigh was pushed up to Bruce’s groin and-

 

_ Oh _ .

 

Dick choked, and suddenly Bruce was pulling his hands away, grasping at Dick’s underwear and pulling them back up. Dick pushed himself back, reached down to help, got himself covered before Bruce could actually  _ see _ , had to fumble with his fly when his slacks were pushed back up his hips.

 

“You’re off patrol tonight,” Bruce said, as Dick tugged his shirt and sweater back down. He nodded not looking up. “But… you don’t have to go clean up.” Dick lifted his head then, but Bruce was patting the back of his thigh, a silent gesture for him to move. Dick very carefully climbed from the chair, wincing because his clothing pushing against his ass hurt. He didn’t think he’d bruise, but he could only imagine how red his skin was, that it’d be that deep cherry all night long. “Go lay down,” Bruce said, reaching up to rake a hand back through his hair. “You need to rest.”

 

“I’m… okay.” Dick managed the words, reaching up to wipe at his eyes with the edge of his sweater. His face was tear stained, and he figured his eyes were a bit puffy.

 

But Bruce was shaking his head. And Dick wondered if maybe he didn’t want Alfred to see him like this, to know what Bruce had done. Instead of fighting it, Dick only nodded, turning and heading for the door. He opened it, let himself into the hallway quickly, before Bruce could change his mind, turned to shut the door.

 

And watched through the crack as Bruce stood up, as he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking flustered, distraught. And noticed the rather obvious tent in the front of Bruce’s slacks.

 

So he  _ hadn’t _ imagined that.

 

Dick shut the door completely, sucking in a breath with a little squeal, feeling this throb going through his entire lower body. It made his front feel  _ good _ , made him want to shove his hand down his slacks, but it only brought out the stinging ache that seemed deep rooted in the flesh of his ass now.

 

Conflicted and confused, he headed down the hallway for his bedroom, thinking maybe he would just lay down. He didn’t know what else to even  _ do _ , right now. Because that was- it  _ hurt _ but…

 

And it was  _ Bruce _ .

 

Dick fumbled with his bedroom door, almost flipped the lock on it once the heavy wood clicked shut. But he worried Alfred might come up, double check that the only injuries he’d sustained were to his pride and his academy jacket, which would need stitching.

 

He sighed, figured asking Alfred to  _ wait _ was better than dealing with the infernal  _ why is the door locked _ question. He glanced over at his bed, considered climbing up onto it, trying to relax a bit- but there was something bothering him,  _ nagging _ him before he could try to  _ get over _ what had just happened.

 

He hurried for his mirror, taking a moment to study himself. He was flushed, and the tear stains were still on his cheeks, left his eyelashes still damp around his puffy eyes. He reached up, rubbed at them again, before he peeked around his hand, curious…

 

Figuring there was no one to catch him for a moment, Dick reached down, fumbled with the fly of his slacks. He turned, got a three quarter look over his shoulder at his backside as he grasped the waistband of his briefs with his pants and tugged everything down, just below the swell of his ass.

 

Dick gasped. He couldn’t  _ help _ it, because skin that was usually smooth and dark was a muddled cherry. Some spots were darker than others, and it wasn’t in the shape of a  _ hand _ because even Bruce’s hits weren’t that precise, but it was an oblong shape that didn’t take much imagination to figure out. Dick bit his lip, reached back with his free hand not holding his clothing to keep it from pooling at his knees, dragged his fingers over the sore flesh. He hissed over his lip, but found he was pushing harder despite how badly it hurt, until his fingers were digging in and it was like tiny hits, all over again.

 

His mouth fell open in a small gasp, his hips trying to cant forward. He pressed his hand flat over the redden skin, realized how  _ small _ his hand still was in comparison to Bruce’s and shivered, mewled-

 

A sharp knock at the door had him jumping nearly out of his skin. “Master Richard?” he heard, and he was tugging his clothing up, wincing as it dragged over his ass.

 

“Just a second!” he called, fingers seemingly unable to get the damn button to his slacks shut. He had to pause, take a deep breath, and try again, before he could get them closed. He adjusted everything as he hurried over to the door, tugged it open and found Alfred standing there.

 

“Master Bruce has instructed me that I should inquire as to what  _ you _ want for dinner this evening. And as it seems my time will be taken up cleaning a bit of a mess, it as been accepted that  _ pizza _ is an acceptable option.”

 

Dick grinned, opened his mouth to spew off the overly complex and topping-piled-high pizza he wanted, before he clamped it back shut. Why would Bruce  _ give _ him something now? Did he really feel that bad?

 

Something in Alfred’s eyes told Dick he was thinking the same thing. “I hope that whatever way your lesson has been taught to you, you have taken it to heart.” He reached out, gloved hand patting Dick’s hair. “Master Bruce was so concerned you could have hurt yourself, I do believe you have taken a year or two off his life. Now, consider your options and find me when you have decided- I seem to have a mess that still awaits me.”

 

Alfred turned, left Dick to cling to his door, half leaning out of his room, turning those words over. So it hadn’t just been his imagination, hadn’t been Bruce just rambling- he really  _ had _ been worried. About Dick, and not some stupid chandelier.

 

Dick almost felt bad now, over it all. Well,  _ worse _ , really. And maybe he’d have to give a little more attention to the things Bruce said he shouldn’t do…

 

Except the memory of his own beaten red ass in the mirror, of how it  _ hurt _ to dig his fingers into the skin but in such a good way- well, it made him think maybe he should break a few more rules. Just a few.


End file.
